Dark Knight A fic
by Kreshnya
Summary: SPOILERS FOR DARK KNIGHT. DO NOT READ IF YOU HAVE NOT SEEN THE MOVIE! THIS IS SLASH, PEOPLE! After the joker is arrested for the second time, he decides to see how much chaos he can create in one man's life, mainly one Detective Stephens!


Dark Knight

**_Synopsis:_ After the joker is arrested for the second time, he decides to see how much chaos he can create in one man's life, mainly one Detective Stephens!**

Stephens' paces outside the door to Major Crimes, teeth set on edge, unable to stay still, even for a moment. His co-workers avoid him, knowing that... look in his eyes, the anger covering over the faintest hint of panic. He growls low in his throat, pressing his hand, palm flat, against the door to push it open but not taking that last step, unable to keep the confrontation from his mind.

_(The night before)_

"... how many of your friends have I killed?" The Joker's voice seems to almost float, eerily loud, though he hadn't raised his voice at all.

Stephens stays back against the door, not rising to the bait, eyes staying pointed straight ahead."You know, I'm a twenty year man." Stephens doesn't quite smile, finally looking down at the man in the makeup. "... and I know the difference between young punks who need a lesson in manners and a sick bastard like you who would simply enjoy it and you've killed six of my friends."

"Ten." The Joker mouths before continuing, unfazed. "Do you wanna know why I use a knife?" his tongue flicks out in that obscene gesture, tip glistening.

Stephens twitches, a slight movement, a mere shift of the jaw, flick of the eyes. "A gun's too quick, you can't... savor the... little details." He pauses, drawing in a breath. "You see, in the last few moments... you really get to know someone. So you see--" A laugh. "... I knew your friends... better than you..." He looks up through his hair at Stephens, eyes narrowing slightly, considering. "Would you like to know which of them were cowards?"

Stephens' jaw clenches as he straightens, looking down at the man crouched now silently on the floor, waiting for his reply. He reaches up, fingers brushing his collar lightly before gripping the jacket with just the tips. "I know you're going to enjoy this." He pulls the jacket down, shrugging out of the sleeves, settling it onto the back of the chair. "I'm just going to have to try to enjoy it even more." His voice seems to grate on the other man's nerves, low and breathy as he moves. He lifts the Joker up by the purple jacket, pulling his arm back to punch the man in the gut, the blow landing.

He's unsure as to how or when he lost the upper hand as he's pressed face first to the two way mirror; the joker's body a solid weight behind him. He starts to shift his weight to try and get loose, and it's a shock to even himself that he finds that he cannot move, startled to stillness, shuddering at the sensation.

Without thought he leans back against the Joker as the man runs his free hand from neck to navel, a finite tremble rocking his body, eyes drifting closed with a breathy moan. The touch was so soft that his mind made it as if the touch were coming from someone else entirely. He pulls in a hard breath as he swallows, throat catching.

The Joker leans up, lips brushing against Stephens' ear, tip of his tongue flicking out to taste skin before murmuring. "Oh... so you're one of those..." He lets his hand drift lower lazily, thumb playing with the man's belt and then lower again, squeezing with a firm pressure, delighting at the hands falling back to clench at his jacket. He sighs, really, there wasn't time to play. He brings his other hand up, knife appearing suddenly there, resting it against Stephens' throat. "Time for a little trip... tic, tic, tic." He laughs, pushing the disappointment from his mind.

Stephen shudders as he's pulled in front of his fellow cops, meeting a rookie's eyes, growling. "It's my own damn fault, just shoot the bastard-" He closes his eyes with a snarl, well aware of the raging hard on showing through his trousers.

The joker's eyes are dancing as he grumbles about just wanting his phone call, loving the... blankly startled expression that the cops have. He catches the phone, dialing one handed, letting the knife nick skin when Stephens shifts, humming a 'shh' at the high pitched little moan that slips from the detective's lips.

_(End Flashback)_

Stephens continues to prowl the hall, anger so clear on his features as he finally forces himself to enter the room with that man, if you could even call him that, in it. He strides over to the cell, his posture straight, almost fierce. He starts questioning the Joker, about Batman, about Harvey, (He was on of the few that knew what had really happened), about everything else to do with batman under the sun. Therefore, when he finally asks the Joker _why_ he'd ever touched him, it comes completely by surprise, from left field, as it were.

The Joker laughs, tongue flicking out to wet his bottom lip, watching the man flinch. "Why... for chaos, of course."

"What the hell does that mean?!" Stephens stalks to the bars, dismissing the guards with a wave of his hands, anger overriding common sense, overriding everything, even caution. After all, he knew first hand, this man was dangerous... and unbalanced.

The Joker laughs again, teeth gleaming against the red of that scarred mouth. "Nothing, absolutely nothing."  
Stephens throws his hands up in disgust, more at himself for even bothering to try to reason with that madman, turing to stalk away with a huff.

The joker reaches out, fingers twisting into Stephen' hair, yanking the man back to the bars, right arm coming up to press against the man's throat, hand gripping to one of the bars to hold him there, effectively pinioning him. His left hand plays along Stephens' jaw, skipping over his own arm to favor Stephens' skin, nails skimming just above that first button before dragging his hand down slowly, fingertips catching on a nipple, smirking when the detective's breath catches and his struggling stops.

Stephens' freezes at the sensation, same as before, heart hammering in his chest, breath far too fast. He stretches his neck out, head back firmly against the bars, trying for a little extra air past the Joker's arm at his throat. He pants as the Joker's hand wanders lower, almost aimlessly, such helpless fury in his gaze as the joker's fingers brush his waistband and then travel lower, fingertips grazing his erection through the thin fabric of his trousers. He bites back a groan, forcing his body to stillness very intently not arching against that hand.

The Joker just laughs again, pressing his palm flat, marveling at the lack of reaction, it seems this man was full of surprises. He brings his mouth closer to the bars, not quite muttering. "... I do this... because I want to know..."

"K-know?" And with that simple word, his control shatters, as the joker knew it would, distraction is always the easiest.

"... you." The Joker pulls the belt loose and open in almost a single gesture, though the hooks to the pants take a little longer. He delves his hand inside the now open pants, tracing the length of Stephens' cock through the jockey before moving that article of clothing aside, sweat-slicked palm coming into contact with Stephen' aching cock, encircling, stroking, teasing.

Stephens' teeth catch on his lower lip at the first contact of skin against skin, fingers clenching around the bars behind him, finally arching against the man's hand, body taught as a steel coil. He cries out softly, eyes closing as the Joker tightens his grip, cutting off his air. That only heightens his senses, making him thrust helplessly into the Joker's hand. His knuckles are white, he's clenching the bars so hard. God, just how sick was he, getting off on this? It had been so long since he'd _let_ anyone touch him... but then again, when one was carrying a torch for his very married, very straight lieutenant, one did not get around much. Especially when he wasn't one, normally, for a casual affair. The Joker gives him just enough leeway to get a short breath before clamping down again, at least he wouldn't pass out.

Joker chuckles into the detective's ear, pulling his arm away completely, hand coming up to hold under his jaw, thumb pressed above the jaw bone, turning the man's head so the side of his face is pressed against the bars. He leans up, sucking an earlobe into his mouth, still pulling and twisting at Stephens' cock, feeling the man's pulse increase, chortling around his mouthful before pulling back. "... oh, you're close, aren't you?" He picks up the pace, grip tightening.

Stephens' doesn't respond, save groaning as the pace quickens, keeping his eyes shut tight, teeth still gripping his lower lip.

The Joker laughs again, head cocking to the side. "... and if I stopped...?" It's said in that little bouncy tone, grinning ear to ear as he stops mid motion, hand squeezed painfully tight just below the head of Stephens' cock.

Stephens' eyes fly open at the painful grip, unable to choke back the cry of protest, nor the stuttered "Oh god."

"Ask me."

He slams his eyes shut, unable to think, unable to reason. "D-Don't..." He nearly sobs. "Stop..." He was unsure as to whether he was telling the Joker to stop, or begging him not to.

The Joker's eyes slide upwards, eyeing the ceiling, a laugh building slowly. His tongue flicks out to barely brush Stephens' cheek as he draws his hand down his cock, cupping the man's balls before continuing the hard pace from before.

Stephens' lets out a cry of relief, arching into the touch, trembling. He pushes against the Joker's grip, turning to move his face away. He cannot help but thrust against the Joker's hand, breath quickening, heart racing. He bites his lip again, a soft keening starting in the back of his throat, each breath ending with a choppy moan, shaking his head lightly. "Oh g-ah, g-god-" He cries, cumming with a strangled shout, biting clean through his lip.

The Joker chuckles softly as the wet heat surges over his hand, continuing to play with the now flaccid detective, coaxing a few more of those intoxicating sounds from the man before stopping to watch the man, laughing when he continues to simply lean back against the bars and pant.

Stephens' finally forces himself to do up his pants, wincing at the bottom of his shirt being absolutely coated. He tucks it in, none the less, pulling away from the bars, encountering no resistance, simply moving from the Joker's grip. He doesn't turn to look at the man, doesn't say a word, simply walking out of the room, swallowing hard at the laughter that follows him out.

**End Chapter One.**

A.N.: Oh god, I actually finished the scene, I thought I was going to die, writing this. To all the fans, gods, I KNOW it's AU... but damn if it wouldn't leave me alone. That's ok, you think this is bad on the scale of AU... wait for the next few chapters. I twist cannon until it screams... but, I'm a slash fan... so I tend to do that. :-P


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